It is getting late and My head hangs low. It is darker now and My tears begin to flow. It is desperate all round so My hands grasp Because they know. The divine language of love, Played on a rope Made of silence. With humility and love, I implore you. Give me shelter, So I may pray through the nights. "O Mistress, Empress and Lady, Defend all who are in danger and misfortune Or weak from many sins, And who stand before your holy Icon Praying with tears, humility, repentance,

With head bowed, Back bent, and tired feet, I crawl to you on hands and knees. With eyes swollen, Parched mouth, and Prayer rope in hand, I whisper the words, One more time. Your enemies are boundless O Christ, Yet, you offer An inexhaustible cup that Never runs dry? Forgive me, a sinner. You gave yourself Mary Most Holy, As the birth giver of God. And now you provide A refuge to me? "Rejoice, for the angelic powers and the human race rejoice because of you! Rejoice, for your

Mary, Most Holy, and Mother of my God. My model, My refuge, and My love. I seek, and With humility, I ask To approach your Life-Giving Spring? With all my heart, I pray... Revive, Restore, and Renew me. "O Lady graced by God, you reward me by letting gush forth, beyond reason, the ever-flowing waters of your grace from your perpetual Spring. I entreat you, who bore the Logos, in a manner beyond comprehension, to refresh me in your grace that I may cry out, 'Hail redemptive wa

Empty and loveless is the world founded by man, Built for his own edification. Angry and hopeless is the world fueled by man, Possessed by his own pride. Bleak and faithless is the world formed by man, Twisted by his own conceit. These dead waters never quench The thirst born deep inside. Only Christ, The Son of the Living God. The water He is, By whom you will never be thirsty. The water He gives, Gushes up toward eternal life. Give me this living water, So that I may never

Seeing darkness, I watch the clouds build on the horizon. Assuming rain, I wait for the clouds to whip up the sea and the sand. What really comes? Not clouds, but a cloud. The cloud. "The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God'" (Luke 1:35). Rejoice in the cloud that Overshadows. Rejoice in the cloud that brings Light. Rejoice in the c

When I gaze upon the still waters, I feel the breeze of your loving insistence. When I gaze upon the still waters, I hear the calm from your enveloping silence. When I gaze upon the still waters, I smell the incense of your everlasting persistence. When I gaze up on the still waters, I taste the love in your embracing sustenance. When I gaze upon the still waters, I see the light of your glistening countenance. How can this be, Through such a life? The Most Holy Trinity, One

Head bowed And hair soaked, My fingers grasp The woolen rope on my hand. Ebb of sin Flow of prayer, My mind in heart The knots move my fingers. Eyes closed And body still, My soul receives The silence nearer my spirit. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me, A sinner. Sounds of rain in my ears And cracks of thunder in my soul, Is praying in the rain Another Baptism, but of tears?

I walk along the water’s edge, Aware that I live in liminal spaces. One foot seemingly on solid ground, Relying on what’s familiar. Grasping for something that comforts, Stuck in the here and now. I walk along the water’s edge, Aware that I do not want to live in between. Remembering the familiar waters of Baptism, Relying on what cannot be seen. Reaching out beyond my capacity, Toward the there and then. I walk along the water’s edge, Aware of the rocks piercing my feet. Or

"Your birth, O Christ our God, dawned the light of knowledge upon the earth. For by Your birth those who adored stars were taught by a star to worship You, the Sun of Justice, and to know You, Orient from on High." O Lord, glory to You. - From the Apolytikion (a dismissal hymn) of the Feast of the Nativity - Icon of the Adoration of the Magi (from the Menologion of Basil II, 10th-11th c.)

Mary, the Mother of God, the Most Holy Theotokos, died to herself at a very early age in order to serve God. Have you ever thought about what that was like? It was a total gift of body, soul, and spirit. Not one part of her was reserved for something selfish. That is why in death she was assumed, soul AND body, into heaven. Do you meditate on her life? Do you ask her intercession? Do you ask God for the strength to emulate her? Die to yourself. Live in God and God alone. An i